


May I Have All Your Eyes And Ears To The Front Of The Room

by beatbackbones



Category: Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is..., Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 1800's, Fluff, M/M, Magician AU, Smut, Tyler Joseph get's mentioned once or twice, assistant Jenna, assistant Ryan, critic Brendon, magician William
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatbackbones/pseuds/beatbackbones
Summary: a magician au that takes place somewhere in the 1800'sI started writing this about a year ago and never continued it (idk why) but it would be a waste not to post it





	1. Prologue

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen. Tonight we will astonish your senses, make you doubt what is real and what is just a simple illusion”, he took a short breath, letting his audience take in the scenery, “and after the show you will leave this theatre, with your mind perplex, rethinking what you just saw and not being able to solve the riddle of this performance.”

All eyes were set on the man who could capture your attention, how short your span may be, in the first four words he spoke. He roamed the big stage —that looked less small under his feet then it did when someone else preformed there— waiving his arms around softly, making him look like a conductor showing his musicians the tempo of their playing. 

“Let is begin!”, the red curtain fell before him with the audience clapping their hands furiously, wanting more after their first taste of this phenomenon called: a Magic Show.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this back in september of 2017 and haven't fully re-read it since so I hope to god that there aren't any spelling mistakes or cringey remarks

Flashing lights spelled names of men nobody truly knew, even the courtesans visiting them almost every night, hoping for a good payment, were clueless about what was racing through their wicked and strangely sophisticated minds. It was the dream for many unmarried men—although married ones were sometimes drawn to it too— to be able to do that, without being critiqued by their kinsmen. It was looked upon as a form of art. Magicians were able to get away with anything because the people they walked among in, were not like them, and would not speak a word about it because ‘They can do that’. 

Ryan never cared for the breathtaking performance or the way the magic was made on a stage or the magicians them self. They were human, just like him, but then with lots of women and money and an ego that could barely fit in the theatre before it had even opened it’s doors. Ryan was merely interested in what was going on behind the stage: how they timed the entire show so perfectly without making a single mistake during its performance and how in gods name, they made the tricks —because that’s what they are, tricks— do their so called magic. 

As a nineteen year old, young-man, Ryan needed someplace that offered him a job or at least something he could earn a little money with, enough to pay off his fathers rent. He slated a meeting with one of the most infamous magicians of his time: The Grande W. Beckett. It wasn’t an easy process to get to speak to him or even his exquisite assistant as two, not all too small, men accompanied them everywhere they went. Ryan waited in front of the Ford’s Theatre front door, as told, for the doors to open at his feet. They didn’t. 

“We use the back doors you know.”, a lady dressed in a burgundy and black colored dress came up from behind him.  
“Oh uhm, I’m George Ryan Ross, I’m here for the assemblage.”, he held out a hand for her to shake, only for her to ignore the gesture. “I know” , she smiled, “and I know.”   
She led him to the back of the theatre, unlocking a smaller door that led to a narrow hallway lit by industrial looking lamps fastened on the walls. Ryan stepped in after her; the smell of cheap perfume, champagne and dust whelmed over him, making his insides twist and leaving him with a feeling of sickness. 

That sickness returning when the pair entered a lodge —the smell being ten times worse here— where a handsome man with a black suit sat on a chair in front of a big mirror. This time the sickness didn’t come necessarily from the champagne-perfume-dust-smell but from the man, magician, in front of him. The man stood up from his chair, grabbing Ryan’s hand and shaking it unceremoniously, “Beckett, nice to meet you. You must be mr. Ross.”

Ryan’s brain was processing this slowly, too slow, and he tried to scramble words together but that was easier done than said as it took him a vexatiously long time to do so, “Likewise, sir Beckett. I’m glad you want to share some of your spare time to teach me, show me, how you make your performance so…So you.”   
Beckett looked Ryan in the eyes, making him feel apprehensive, “Just call me William, that’s who I am right now. Beckett is the show man.” His voice was low and comforting but also intimidating at the same time. 

His assistant coughed softly to get William’s attention.   
“Ah yes! Maybe we should start with, a tour around our ‘workspace’?”, William spoke enthusiastic, making Ryan feel like he was standing in front of a twelve year old instead of a man going on thirty. “Jenna, darling, will you walk mr. Ross here”, the illusionist put his hand on his shoulder, “through everything and try to explain it as best as you can? I have another important conclave with a very important pawn in our little game of chess.”  
“Of course, sir Beckett, it would be my pleasure.”, Jenna said with a smile so bright and fake, it could make all the young and naive women in Hollywood and Beverly Hills envy her. 

»

“…and that is how i’ve been floating on stage ever since.”, she talked in a slower pace then usual when explaining how the magic trick worked, carefully choosing and weighting each word for it’s appropriate use. “Doesn’t the trick get boring for the audience after a while?”, Ryan was less careful when it came to picking and using the right words. Sometimes he’d look up long and prettier sounding synonyms in library books, so he’d sound more sophisticated when talking with important and rich gentlemen; in his everyday life though, he didn’t care too much about it.

“As long as the audience doesn’t know how the magic’s made, they will keep watching in veneration.”, Jenna stood up from the velvet sofa, wineglass in hand, and wandered around the nicely spaced study. Her steps were elegant and gracious and the hand that held the crystal glass swayed on her left nonchalantly; she was the kind of lady you would find described in the most beautiful poetry and most praised literature. 

Ryan opened his mouth slightly, an indication he was going to say something, but decided he’d rather not. “What?”, Jenna asked him in a curious manner. Curiosity looked good on her, he thought. 

“I know I shouldn’t be asking this but-“, Ryan took a deep breath, knowing he indeed shouldn't ask this. It wasn’t his business and it would never be, that didn’t mean he wasn’t at least a little interested. “That man sir Beckett said he was going to meet, who is he?” As soon as the last word was said, Jenna looked at him in way he had never seen before. Ryan was never good at reading people, that led to girlfriends thinking he was cold-hearted and rude because he never knew when they felt sad or hurt and he sure as hell didn’t know what to say when he did know. 

He didn’t know wether Jenna was angry, offended, confused or just holding back a laugh that told him his question was utterly stupid. So Ryan just sat there, in his chair with his mind racing, staring at her with a blank expression. A minute or two went by until she gave him a not-so-genuine smile, her eyes holding back the daggers she wants to shoot at him. Ryan didn’t blame her, he would want to shoot daggers at himself too if he were in her place. 

“He’s a journalist, a critic you may say. A very good one with a high position. Sir Beckett wants him to write another review, this time of our new show, because last time when he wrote one we started selling out quite fast and were able to give more shows. To put it short, he made our magic show get known among the people and our path to riches and fame clearer.”, she took a sip from her wine, taking her time swallowing it down, “We owe him a lot, not that either of us would ever tell him that.” 

Instead of sitting back down in the velvet sofa opposite of Ryan like before, she took a seat on the left armrest of the leather chair he sat in. “Don’t tell him I told you, he’s not gonna be happy if he finds out and I don’t want to loose my métier.”, Jenna’s eyes turned down and pierced right through him, she looked sad and lost and scared. “I won’t speak a word.”, Ryan said, making her eyes getting their usual spark and glinster back and she mouthed a “thank you” with a smile reaching the depths of Ryan’s heart.


End file.
